


Seventeen

by AyanoaRose



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing and Singing, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Heathers References, Inspired by Music, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Singing, and cheesy, its very sappy, please enjoy, they sing seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:45:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyanoaRose/pseuds/AyanoaRose
Summary: Quentin comes back to the cottage after everything that happens to try and talk to Eliot. He finds him sitting on the windowsill and smoking, and he suddenly figures out a way to cheer him up.





	Seventeen

Rain pattered against the concrete and Quentin's stringy, wet hair, as he stood at the door of the cottage. After everything that had happened, from the keys and his life with Eliot, to the library, their memories, and the monster that took over Eliot's body, Quentin just wanted to be home, after it all. The cottage, he quickly figured, was his one true home, and he sighed softly. He snapped his fingers quickly to open the door, stepping in as the drops on his skin splattered against the floor.

After everything that had happened, he still hadn't spoken to Eliot. It crushed him from the inside out, and without Eliot, he felt he had lost a part of him too, in the entire mess that had happened. He didn't truly know what Eliot was feeling after it all. After the monster had taken over his body and killed people, he hadn't been the same. No one could be the same after that. Especially not Eliot.

So, with a speech in his heart and a blubbering mess in his head, Quentin stepped in confidently, slowly shutting the door behind him. It still rattled a bit as it slightly slammed. 

From his first look, the cottage looked much the same. Except for the fact that it was cleaner, since there had been no parties recently. However, the bar was only half stocked, and he knew that was Eliot's doing, and he sighed softly. The handrail up the steps was a little dusty, meaning no one had gone up in a while, which confused him. He knew that Margo had business to take care of, so she hadn't been around the cottage in about a week, but had Eliot really not gone upstairs at all? Shit.

Instead of going upstairs and barging into Eliot's room, (which was what he was going to do at first), he looked to his left, and his heart clenched. He realized then, why Eliot hadn't gone upstairs.

Eliot sat at the windowsill, knees pulled up to his chest and pillows scattered on the floor around him, as if he had deliberately thrown them there in anger. Empty bottles of alcohol also scattered the floor, along with cigarette butts and a large blanket. Eliot was smoking another cigarette, taking a long drag as he looked out the window and traced a drop of water down until it slipped off. He continued this routine as Quentin watched, staring at the way Eliot had dark circles under his eyes and his once curly hair was getting straighter from not bathing. 

Quentin walked up slowly, trying not to startle him. However, Eliot realized when Quentin's toe bumped an empty glass bottle, and he cursed softly. Eliot slowly turned to face Quentin, and a small smile fell on his face. It was sad, and painful, and Quentin's face fell.

"Hey, Q." was all Eliot said, before turning to face the window again. Quentin sighed, and walked up, sitting across from him at the windowsill.

"El, I-we, we're worried about you, you know? I don't know what the monster did exactly while he was in you but-"

"You're damn right you don't know what he did, and you don't want to know either." Eliot said, choking on the last words that escaped his lips. He took another drag to keep from crying.

"And you don't have to tell us now but.. "

"I almost killed you Quentin!" Eliot yelled, his cigarette gone by now, and Quentin wondered if he had used magic to make it disappear. "I.. you almost died by my hand Q, and I'm not ready to look at you just yet." He choked out, his voice scratchy. Quentin couldn't tell if it was from the cigarettes or the alcohol, but his face softened anyway.

"But you didn't. I'm here, okay?" Quentin leaned forward, brushing his hand against Eliot's knee, and Eliot flinched from under him, but soon relaxed under the touch. His eyes fluttered and closed, and he relaxed, taking in everything around him. The sounds of Eliot's soft breaths, the pitter patter of rain outside.

Silence flooded between them, and Quentin remembered a song he had heard back in high school, that Julia had sang to him to make him feel better. He wasn't the best singer, sure, but Eliot needed comfort, and he thought it would help.

"We're damaged. Really damaged. But that does not make us wise." He sang out softly, and Eliot's head shot up.

"Q, this isn't really the most uplifting song-"

"Just, be quiet and listen to the lyrics, okay? Julia used to sing it to help me feel better, its from a musical or some shit." Quentin sighed, taking in a deep breath before continuing.

"We're not special. We're not different. We don't choose who lives or dies." He continued softly, his throat constricting a bit when singing the last line. Eliot took in a sharp breath as Quentin opened his eyes to make contact with his.

"Let's be normal. See bad movies. Sneak a beer and watch TV." Quentin smiled now, remembering how Julia's voice filled his senses and how his own voice was now the only thing he could hear, along with Eliot's breathing.

"We'll bake brownies, we'll go bowling. Don't you want a life with me?" Julia had only sang him the first couple lines when they were young, but he remembers going home and finding the song, learning the rest himself. It cheered him him, and reminded him that the future wasn't something he needed to worry about just yet. Eliot had sucked in a breath when Quentin said the last line, noticing how Quentin's eyes shined with something more. Something that reminded him of the mosaic. His heart thrummed in his chest.

"Can't we be seventeen?" His voice cracked a bit on the higher note, as his eyes grew teary. "That's all I want to do."

Eliot laughed. "Q, we aren't seventeen-" Quentin hushed him, and continued.

"If you could let me in, I could be good with you." Quentin sang out softly, and Eliot's smile faded, his eyes widening. Quentin continued smiling as he sang.

Eliot realized then that he knew this song too. It was from a musical that Margo had raved about when they first met, and she had it on repeat for so long that as Quentin sang, the memories appeared in his vision. He knew the words, and he smiled softly. 

"People hurt us-" Quentin sang, his eyes widening as Eliot joined him. 

"Or they vanish," Eliot continued. 

"And you're right, it really blows." 

"But we let go," 

"Take a deep breath," 

"And go buy some summer clothes." Quentin laughed a bit at that line, and choked up immediately after as Eliot turned to face him, grabbing both of his hands tightly. He gasped a bit at the contact. "We'll go camping," 

"Play some poker," 

"And go eat some chili fries. Maybe prom night," 

"Maybe dancing," 

"Don't stop looking in my eyes!" Quentin belted out, and Eliot laughed wholeheartedly, pulling Quentin to his feet as he stood. He wrapped his arm around Quentin's waist, pulling him close, even as he sputtered before they continued laughing. 

"Can't we be seventeen!" They belted out together, holding each other close even as their voices bounced back off of the cottage walls around them. He was suddenly glad all of the other physical kids decided to do something with their lives today. 

"Is that so hard to do? If you could let me in, I could be good with youuu!" They sang together, smiles on their faces and they spun and spun in a way that was so dizzying yet so addictive. "Let us be seventeen! If we've still got the right!" 

"So what's it gonna be?" Quentin sang out, knowing his heart was fully out there now, after this line. "I wanna be with you-" He sang out a little softer, a smile still on his face as Eliot held him tight. 

"I wanna be with you," Eliot sang fully in response, and their smiles got a little wider. 

"Tonight!" They yelled out, still holding each other close. Quentin was tired after all of their spinning and screaming, so he pulled Eliot closer, wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning his head on his chest. He continued to sing, softly now. 

"Yeah, we're damaged," 

"Badly damaged." Eliot sang softly in response, one hand holding onto Quentin's head lighty.

"But your love's too good to lose." They sang together. 

"Hold me tighter," 

"Even closer," 

"I'll stay if I'm what you choose." Quentin sang out, his arms holding Eliot so tight it hurt, but he didn't mind. "'Cause you're the one I choose." 

"You're the one I choose." They sing the last line together, as Eliot pulled up Quentin's head with his fingers on his chin, crashing his lips into his. They kiss for what seems like forever before they break apart, gasping and smiling. 

"Thank you, Q... I really needed that." Eliot said pulling Quentin into a tight hug. He felt Quentin smile against his chest. "Do you really choose me?" 

Quentin nodded his head, pulling out from Eliot's embrace. "El, I will always choose you. Past," He stated, pointing to Eliot's head to remind him of the mosaic. "Present," He continued, motioning between where they were standing now. He grabbed Eliot's hand. "And future." 

Eliot's eyes shined with unshed tears, and a sob escaped his lips. "I'm so sorry." 

"You have nothing to be sorry for El, nothing." He pressed a chaste kiss to Eliot's lips, and he led them back to the couch. "Come on, let's relax, and when you're ready, you can tell me everything, okay?" 

Eliot nodded softly as they lied down, Quentin's head on Eliot's chest and their legs tangled, before they quickly fell asleep. Quentin sadly forgot that he had been soaking wet before this because he had walked here in the rain, but they both seemed to forget that. 

... 

Margo happened to bust into the cottage a few hours later. And by bust in, it was literal. She used magic to throw open the door, not even flinching as it slammed into the wall. 

The two laying on the couch didn't wake either, since Eliot hadn't slept in who knows how long. 

Margo sighed, yelling "I'm back bitches!" Into the cottage, quickly realizing there had been no response. She looked to her right, and spotted the two on the couch. She groaned. "Fucking finally!" 

She grabbed her suitcase, and took heavy steps up the stairs, her heels clicking along the wood. A small smile fell on her face as she took one more glance at the two. 

"Thank you, Q. He really needed you." She took two more steps, heading to her room, and began to unpack her things. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I listened to Seventeen and had to write this immediately and wrote it in like, under and hour and thought it was okay so here you go!


End file.
